


Fire & Ice.

by theweakestthing



Category: K (Anime)
Genre: M/M, Prompt Fic, nsfw promts, otp prompts
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-08-26
Updated: 2015-03-01
Packaged: 2018-02-14 21:13:26
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 30
Words: 15,174
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2203299
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/theweakestthing/pseuds/theweakestthing
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Red and blue intertwine and leave a trail of purple.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Hold.

"Would ya cut that out," Yata snarled behind him.

"Cut what out Misaki?" Fushimi smirked devilishly into Yata's shoulder blade. 

"You know exactly what," Yata squirmed in Fushimi's embrace. 

"Maybe it wouldn't be so _hard_ If you stopped wriggling," Fushimi sighed into the warm crock of Yata's neck. The latter stilled with Fushimi's erection digging almost painfully where his thigh met his butt cheek.

"You're the worst, monkey," Yata seethed, mildly relieved that Fushimi could not see the blush that was spread across his face and buried it in the pillow. 

"You know Misaki," Fushimi hummed as he dragged his face down between Yata's shoulder blades and breathed in deeply, "you always smell like a bakery, all warm and sweet," he pressed feather light kisses to Yata's nape. 

Yata pressed his mouth deeper into the pillow and groaned.


	2. Press.

Yata was glad that he'd been the first in the onsen, but then it dawned on him that he would have to be the first to leave, either way Fushimi was going to see his skinny pale ass. At least he could blame his blush on the heat here. 

Fushimi sauntered into the area in all his naked glory, Yata fought himself to keep his eyes above the other's waist line. He swore a vein was popping out on his forehead. Fushimi gracefully lowered himself down into the water, pale shimmering skin sunk into the dark water that reflected the night's sky. Yata couldn't tear his eyes away. 

Yata put his hand down into the water to steady himself, it came upon slender fingers as Fushimi turned toward him. Yata felt drunk on the look into those glacial eyes, swimming with a dark desire. He tightened his grip on Fushimi's hand, fingers entwining with the other's. Their knees and shoulders bumped together, Yata felt too hot and it had nothing to do with the temperature of the water. 

Thin lips that usually spat snide remarks parted ever so slightly, looking cool and inviting. Their noses brushed past each other before their lips finally met, a kind of warmth that was only felt in the heart and the bones spread through their bodies. They pulled apart slowly, eyes fluttering open. Yata fell backward before righting himself, face flushed. Fushimi clicked his tongue as he brought his arm behind Yata to support him.

"You're such a lightweight."


	3. Experience.

Yata squeezed his eyes closed as he removed his sweater and tanktop in one go, face going beet red. He kneeled up, eyes still closed and moved his hands toward the button on his shorts. 

"So coy, Misaki," Fushimi breathed down Yata's neck as he replaced the other's hands and pulled the shorts and boxers down. Yata gasped, not knowing that Fushimi was so close, his eyes stuttered open. His mouth gaped at the sight above him, Yata thought Fushimi to be a stone wall always teasing and always unaffected. But here Fushimi was, eyes dark and dangerous, lips slightly parted and cheeks dusky. "Are you scared?" Fushimi asked sincerely, he dropped the fabric in his hands, letting it pool around Yata's knees. 

"N-no, of course not!" Yata barked unable to go redder, "i-it's my first time is all," he conceded, pouting off to the side. 

"Well, I'll make sure to take good care of my Misaki," Fushimi said with a smile as he nuzzled his head into the crock of Yata's neck. He left sloppy open mouthed kisses around Yata's throat as he rid himself of his clothes, Yata sucked in air refusing to make a sound. 

Fushimi continued to distract Yata with his mouth, kissing, licking and sucking easy to reach areas as he covertly coated his fingers in lotion. He leaned over Yata with their mouths pressed together, causing the smaller to fall onto his back. Without any forewarning, Fushimi slipped a finger inside, Yata gasped at the sudden and cold intrusion. 

It wasn't long before Yata was making all kinds of delicious noises that Fushimi was swallowing in suffocating kisses. Fushimi's fingers crocked, curled and spread inside Yata, making him drunk on sensation. His legs were trembling and twitching with every thrust of the other's fingers, his ragged breath puffed against Fushimi's jaw. 

"Look at you," Fushimi said panting, he pulled back, "we've barely gotten started and you're already wrecked," he smiled fondly before going for broke and hitting that magical spot inside Yata. The smaller stuttered a gasp, sucking in breath as though he were dying. 

"S-shut up, stupid monkey," Yata whined, his words devoid of their usual bite, "just get on with it," he wriggled in Fushimi grasp. 

"Eager, aren't we?" Fushimi raised his brows and smirked. He positioned himself dutifully between Yata's thighs and pulled the smaller's ankles to rest on his shoulders. 

It was uncomfortable at fist, stuttered thrusts and pained winces, but as they both relaxed they fell into an easy rhythm. Yata panted and moaned below Fushimi, hands twisting in the sheets for something to do. Their eyes stayed on each other's, this time softly, lovingly. Yata raised his arms, hands reaching up toward Fushimi's face, making gabby motions. 

Fushimi bent over on his hands and knees, doubling Yata over, making his knees come beside his shoulders. Yata's small hands cupped Fushimi's face and pulled it toward him, their lips touched, mouths open with breathy moans and shuddering gasps. Fushimi wrapped his fingers around Yata's member and squeezed. 

It didn't take long for Yata to go over the edge, the image of blue hazy eyes burnt into his retina. He curled in on himself, fingers digging deep into Fushimi's shoulder blades. The taller followed shortly after, shuddering gasps of Yata's names as his hips stuttered against the other. 

They laid in a tangled mess of limbs, hair matted to their faces. Breath evening out as they stared at each other. 

"You know what, Misaki?" Fushimi said softly, Yata hummed in reply, "it was my first time too," he smiled. 

Yata was hardly surprised.


	4. Apart.

Fushimi decided that he's in a really sorry state when he noticed that he couldn't even go a day. Yata was away for the weekend, at his parent's. Fushimi really couldn't take it, he was completely strung out with the need to be touching his precious Misaki. It was late and he was laying on his side in the bed staring at the empty space beside him, wondering if he should just give into desire or not. The phone rang. 

"Yes?" Fushimi said with his clipped tone, much too frustrated to deal with anyone at that moment. 

"And hello to you too Saru," Yata bit out on the other end. Fushimi sat up, eyes wide. 

"Uh, hey, I thought you'd be busy all weekend," Fushimi backpedalled slightly. 

"It's night time, what exactly am I going to be busy with?" Yata said curtly, almost sighing into the phone. 

"Sleeping," Fushimi stated, "why are you being all snippy with me?" He smirked hopefully.

"I think I'm always snippy with you Saru, it's just what you bring out in people," Yata said sharply. 

"Ya' know Misaki," Fushimi drawled, "I miss you, a whole lot," he prayed his seductive tone rang well through the line. 

"Yeah, well I've been missing you too Saru," Yata's voice dropped its edge. 

"I mean in a very specific way," Fushimi breathed, "I ache for you, Misaki," he all but moaned the other's name into the receiver. Yata groaned on the other end. 

"Are you in bed?" Yata asked tentatively. 

"Yes, are you?" Fushimi said simply as he threw off his bed shirt. 

"Uh-huh," Yata murmured and Fushimi could almost hear him nodding. 

"I really want to touch you, Misaki," Fushimi admitted. 

"I hate it when you use my name like that," Yata groaned. 

"Don't you want to touch me, Misaki?" Fushimi lilted and Yata growled. 

"Yes, of course I do," he forced out between gritted teeth. 

"Where do you want to touch me?" Fushimi asked, he placed his hand limply on his chest as he leaned back on his elbows. 

"Anywhere, I just wanna feel your skin," Yata whined. 

"What are you wearing?" Fushimi murmured. 

"Real classy Saru," Yata scoffed, but answered anyways, "just boxers."

"Mmm," Fushimi hummed in approval, "me too," he smirked wickedly. "Misaki, I wanna kiss your neck, I want to drag my fingernails over your soft skin," he said sultry, hand sliding under the waistband of his boxers.

"S-saru," Yata whined and Fushimi could practically hear the blush, "um, I wanna tangle my fingers in your hair, I wanna bite you," Yata groaned, voice catching.

"Hmm, I like it when you bite me," Fushimi sighed as he rubbed the head of his cock, hissing at the pleasure. 

"I wanna bite your thigh, I love the noises you make," Yata bit, Fushimi's thighs twitched at the memory of Yata's teeth sinking into his flesh. 

"Would you go down on me?" Fushimi hated the tentative sound of his voice, but the thought of Yata's mouth close to his groin drives him crazy. 

"O-only if you ask so kindly," Yata smirked and his voice stuttered, Fushimi's grip on himself tightened at the sound. "You make the best faces when I've got my mouth a-around you," his voice stopped and started and Fushimi hand went in time with it, the image of Yata between his legs, lips wrapped around his dick. 

"Ung, Misaki," Fushimi moaned, one hand griping the phone so hard that it creaked and the other squeezing his cock hard. The sounds he heard in return on the other end made him smile fondly, remembering the numerous times he's seen Yata's bliss filled face. "Goodnight, Misaki," he sighed. 

"G-goodnight Saru," Yata said wistfully. Fushimi fell asleep with the sound of Yata's steady breathing in his ear.


	5. Heat.

Sticky fingers curled in Fushimi's hair, the fan made a lot of noise for something so useless. Yata's toes curled, legs outstretched behind Fushimi's shoulders. Yata tasted like sweat, trails of it rolled down his chest as Fushimi's nails scraped over the darkening skin there. The plastic outdoor chair creaked as Yata arched his back and groaned.

Fushimi tightened his hold on Yata's soft thigh, thumb rubbing against the smaller's pelvis. His glasses began to slide down his nose, he threw them off toward the bed. He pressed his teeth against the shaft of Yata's cock, the hand in his hair pulled and twisted. 

"I can't stand you Saru," Yata hissed down, he drew his feet upon Fushimi's shoulders. He pulled the other closer with the heels of his feet. 

Fushimi's hands slipped where they touched Yata, trying to catch at the tacky skin. He started to say dirty things around Yata, the other boy shuddered at the sensation. Fushimi pulled his dripping hands from Yata's skin and brought them to the fly of his shorts. 

"You really are the worst," Yata whined through gritted teeth, fingers digging painfully into Fushimi's head as he pulsed into the taller's mouth.


	6. Rush.

"You're eager," Fushimi said head leant back against his bedroom door, the amused tone grated against Yata.

"Shut up for once, will ya" the smaller boy hissed before leaning up on his tip-toes to press chaste kisses against Fushimi's jaw. He slid his hand over the front of Fushimi's trousers, it was mid February and his blazer was suffocating him suddenly. 

Fushimi leant down, capturing Yata's jaw with his slender fingers and pulled the other's lips to his, making Yata crane. Yata's small hand press hard against the quickly harden form of Fushimi cock, was February always this hot? Fushimi didn't know but suddenly his tie was a noose, Yata pulled him down to the floor by it. 

Yata climbed into Fushimi's lap, lips never leaving the other's. He rolled his hips in a way that made Fushimi gasp, hands came to his hips, fingers dug in painfully. Fushimi slid down the wall, coming to lay flat, pulling Yata flush against him. 

Fushimi smirked devilishly as his chest heaved for oxygen, he thrust his hips up into Yata's. The shuddered groan of the smaller boy atop him pulled his hips up involuntarily, his fingers found the wild locks of ginger hair as he sighed against Yata's cheek. 

"What am I going to do with you, Misaki?"


	7. Solid.

Yata stood in the dining room, nervously shifting his weight as he watched the antique clock on the opposite wall. He bit his nails and wrapped the other arm around himself, he was feeling increasingly uncomfortable as the time ticked by. 

The door flung open and instead of being draped over the dining table wearing a sultry smile, Yata jolted and resumed his awkward stance with the addition of a faith pout and darkening cheeks. Fushimi stood in the doorway blinking at the sight before him. 

Yata was butt naked.

"A-are you hungry?" Yata spat the words as though they wounded him on the way out, his cheeks were flaming when he met Fushimi's eyes. 

Fushimi wasted no time and strode toward Yata, captured the other's lips hastily. Yata melted into his frame, fingers clawing at the back of Fushimi's hair. He hefted the smaller onto the table and stood between soft vanilla thighs, he nibbled at the lobe of Yata's ear. 

"I'm fucking famished," Fushimi groaned in the other's ear. He pulled himself from his dress trousers, the smaller twisted his fingers in the lapels of Fushimi's blazer. 

"Good because I've been starving myself for you," Yata mumbled against Fushimi's lips before sinking his teeth into them. He delved a hand into the inside pocket of Fushimi's blazer with a knowing smile, "you're such a scumbag Saru," Yata said as he tore the wrapper with his teeth. He watched the hunger swell in Fushimi's eyes, getting drunk on the feeling of that gaze. 

Yata slowly rolled the condom down Fushimi's length, the latter sighed at the long awaited friction. Fushimi hiked Yata's legs over his shoulders and positioned himself, as he slid in slowly, Fushimi dragged his hands over Yata's small frame. The feel of the expensive blazer against his calves and the back of his thighs gave Yata a kind of thrill that had his eyes hooded. Fushimi squeezed and pressed and caressed the other's supple skin, smiling at the tiny shivers and hard huffs of air that Yata released. 

Arms locked behind Fushimi's neck, hands pulling at the hair on his nape. He moved in slow drawn out motions, savouring every shift in Yata's expression and every small jump of Yata's muscles. Thin snide lips swallowed every noise that the smaller expelled, hands griped Yata's hips harshly. They came stuttering moans into each other's mouths.

"Mmm, that was delicious," Fushimi said as he lapped at his fingers.


	8. Digitally.

Fushimi was glad to see that Yata's blush was clear as day on his laptop. Yata severely hated being in front of the webcam and hated even more that he could see himself in a small window, he groaned and covered his face with his hand. 

"Oh, come on Misaki, let me see you," Fushimi begged in that sultry voice of his. Yata made some sort of strangled noise low in his throat but removed his hand despite himself. Fushimi was greeted with his favourite sight, Yata's deepest blush. 

"Saru, this is kinda pathetic," Yata whined, "you've only been gone like half a day," he said with a raised brow. 

"But I miss you," Fushimi said pouting and Yata knew it was put on, the latter laughed dryly. Fushimi was a sight to behold projected upon his computer screen, it felt kind of dirty like watching porn and Yata hard to turn around to survey the room at the thought of that. "Don't you miss me?" Fushimi sighed in that way that made Yata's breath catch in his throat. 

"It is kinda weird, not having you clinging to me all day," Yata said offhandedly. 

"You show your affections in your own way don't you," Fushimi smiled condescendingly. 

"Screw you," Yata smiled broadly. 

"Yes please," Fushimi said and undid the top two buttons of his shirt. 

"Waoh, waoh Saru I didn't mean," Yata had to clamp his mouth shut at the sight of Fushimi's chest. That angry burnt mark still irked him but Fushimi had smoothed his own edges enough to soothe that wound. Yata swallowed thickly as Fushimi continued until the shirt was splayed away from him, the slim contours of that wicked body made Yata ache. 

"Like what you see Misaki?" Fushimi said licking his lips, Yata shuddered at that sight. 

"Yeah," Yata said sheepishly.

"Would ya mind showing me something," Fushimi tilted his head, Yata spluttered blabbering before gripping the end of his tank top and pulling it over his head. The slow reveal of Yata's lightly tanned skin was a little more than Fushimi could take, he moved his hand to rest over his crotch. Yata tossed the top into the corner of the room and turned back to see Fushimi palming himself through the fabric of his trousers. 

"J-jeez Saru, seriously you can't wait three days?" Yata stammered, the sight making his whole body flush. 

"It's just what you do to me Mi-sa-ki," Fushimi sing-songed a little strained, "do you wanna see it?" he smiled crookedly and Yata groaned the noise thick in his throat, he knew that Fushimi loved it when he asked for it.

"Y-yes," he said weakly, fingers catching at the waistband of his shorts. 

"I'll show you mine if you show me yours," Fushimi said showing teeth. Yata shifted back up the bed and pulled his shorts and boxers down to his knees, Yata's cock fit into the palm of his hand and he squeezed it hard. 

"Your turn Saru," Yata said through gritted teeth making sure that Fushimi got a nice view. Fushimi undid the fly of his trousers and pulled himself from them, he was thick and average in length already leaking precum. 

"Would ya mind giving me a show Misaki?" Fushimi asked. 

"What do you mean pervert?" Yata hissed closing his eyes. 

"Finger yourself," Fushimi said in a sweet release of breath. Yata crawled his free hand up his front and slipped a few fingers into his mouth, he sucked loudly causing Fushimi to keen. He slowly pressed two fingers inside himself, pulling his lip back over his teeth at the burn. Yata thrust his fingers in rhythm with the flick of his wrist, his pants grew in volume and slowly turned into strangled moans. Yata kept his eyes on the slightly pixelated Fushimi and what a sight that was, Fushimi had his mouth parted huffing and groaning loudly, a light blush dusted his cheeks and his chest rose and fell shallowly and quickly. 

"I-I I'm gonna Saru," Yata whined with a pained expression on his face, fingers curling inside himself searching until he finally hit it moaning throatily. 

"I'm close too Mi-sa-ki," Fushimi chimed, voice like a chorus of angels to Yata's ears, "come for me Misaki," Fushimi begged and Yata obliged spurting stringy white all over his hand, he watched Fushimi come with muffled whines biting the back of his hand. 

"We're not doing this every night," Yata said out of breath and they both knew that wasn't true.


	9. Flat.

Yata slammed the door shut using Fushimi's body and yanked the other down to his level by the collar, dragging Fushimi into an air stealing kiss. He knew it was a bad idea to go to a club with Fushimi but he'd done it anyway, jealousy was an ugly thing that Yata liked to pretend he never possessed but that night watching women fawn over the taller really set his teeth on edge and he ached to sink them into Fushimi. 

He pulled apart Fushimi's shirt opening it about halfway and sending buttons flying every which way, he bit and sucked at Fushimi's burnt collar causing the other to wince. Fushimi was busy himself, unbuttoning Yata's slacks. He pushed them down low on Yata's thigh and the boxers followed, Yata hissed at the cool air and trailed kisses around Fushimi's chest. He fished a condom out of Fushimi's front pocket and tore the wrapper apart, rolling it down himself with ease. 

"Oh, well isn't this a surprise," Fushimi murmured into Yata's hair. 

"You're mine Saru," Yata whined digging his finger nails into Fushimi's hips, "don't you ever forget that." He brought his lips up to Fushimi's and pressed a deep passionate kiss there, he spun Fushimi around pushed him hard against the door. 

Fushimi shrugged out of his blazer and placed his hands flat on the door, Yata pulled down Fushimi's clothes revealing the taller's milky white backside. It was a kind of awkward angle, Yata had to strain upward and Fushimi had to bend down but Yata's skin felt ablaze and he couldn't give a damn at that moment in time. 

He pushed into Fushimi snapping his teeth together, Fushimi's fingers curled into fists and he winced trying to relax his body. Yata didn't wait for Fushimi to adjust, didn't want Fushimi to adjust he wanted to keep the other on edge. He rocked up into the other groaning against the back of Fushimi's sweat drenched shirt, Fushimi's legs quaked and he huffed quietly. 

The quiet irritated Yata to no end, he pushed two fingers inside Fushimi prodding in search of something sweet. Fushimi shuddered and gasped sharply trying to grip the door, he pressed his face against it turning to look behind himself at Yata. 

"Did ya like that, huh monkey?" Yata tilted his head with a wicked smile, it sent shivers all along Fushimi's skin. Yata removed his fingers and curled his hand around Fushimi's neglected length, pumping it hard and fast slamming himself against the other. Fushimi came first and his legs buckled, he landed on his legs upon the floor. Yata slipped off the condom and threw it to the ground along with the wrapper, he pulled Fushimi's hair back so that the taller was long up at him and jerked himself off over Fushimi's pale gorgeous face. 

Fushimi licked his lips and made a mental note to make Yata jealous more often.


	10. Woof.

Yata lay with his head buried in the sheets ass in the air, Fushimi had to hold in a heavy sigh at the sight before him. The way Yata's body folded so neatly, his skin so soft, pure and surprisingly untainted by scars or blemishes. No matter how much Fushimi wanted to sit there and stare at the beauty of Yata's form as though it were some sort of masterpiece, he wanted to touch the other far more. His fingers were slick and itched with the need to force gasps and sighs of pleasure from the other's sweet small lips.   
"Get on with it monkey," Yata hissed, but the deep dark blush that spread from ear to ear only worked against him. 

"As you wish my love," Fushimi said as though flowers were blooming on his lips and cupped Yata's backside with his hand, the smaller squirmed but leant up into the touch. He gently pushed a finger inside Yata causing the other to release a stuttering gasp, Fushimi pressed his other hand flat against the small of Yata's back. The smaller squirmed and curled his fingers in the sheets beneath him as Fushimi pressed on in a rhythm that Yata could barely keep up with, the rhythm slightly off tempo. Fushimi got what he wanted when slipped in a second finger and Yata opened his mouth wide to let loose a breathy moan, amber eyes locked onto icy blues. 

"Saru," Yata choked out in a sob drenched with desire and Fushimi knew exactly what Yata was asking for. Fushimi leant over Yata, fingers still inside the other, and trailed kisses along the other's petite back.

"Patience love," Fushimi murmured against Yata's ear lobe, he wanted to bring Yata to the edge before the real fun began. Yata panted loudly mouth staying open, drool pooled on the sheets. 

"Saru, fuck me," Yata whined brows furrowed, making a mess of the sheets as he twisted and turned them in his hands. That was all Fushimi could take, he quickly replaced his fingers with his leaking member. Yata's breath caught in his throat, Fushimi's unrelenting pace knocked his arms out from under, burying his face into the pillows. Fushimi's fingers dig painfully into Yata's hips. 

Yata would have loved to hear Fushimi's hazy strangled moans, but all he could hear then was his own harsh breathing, loud throaty moans and the slapping of skin on skin. He gets lost in the no"ise and sensation, before he's quite ready for it he's filled with a warmth and as Fushimi leaves him warm liquid slides down his thigh.   
Fushimi pressed himself fully against Yata, head nuzzled in Yata's nape. He snuck a hand under the smaller and wrapped his slender fingers Yata's strained erection, Yata stammered and babbled clawing at the pillow as he came, the force of it knocking sense out of him and he collapsed in on himself making Fushimi fall with him. 

"You're gonna be the death of me," Fushimi sighed heavily in the ginger locks, Yata mumbled something unintelligible on the cusp of sleep.


	11. Power and Control.

The blush on Yata's face was adorable, really so adorable that it starkly contrasted with his words and Fushimi was having a hard time not laughing. 

"Y-you have to ask," Yata swallowed thickly, "you have to ask for permission to cum," he said sterner, Fushimi nodded. Fushimi was already naked with Yata still clothed, he thought it would do something for the other's confidence. "Hnn Saru I don't like being mean," Yata whined breaking character and bending in half. 

"Oh, come on Misaki," Fushimi said kneeling up to stroke Yata's sides, "haven't you always wanted to order me about?" he curled a brow in seduction, nibbling at Yata's knuckles.

"Yeah," Yata said nodding faintly. 

"Well, just do that," Fushimi smiled sultry. 

"Ok, no more talking," Yata smiled drinking in the power. He ran his fingers through Fushimi's dark hair and pulled the other's head to the side, admiring the pale column of Fushimi's neck. "On the bed," Yata ordered letting go of the other.

Fushimi laid back on the mattress keeping his eyes heavy on Yata, the latter tilted his head and frowned. Yata pushed Fushimi around, he planted feet on the edge of the bed with knees splayed apart, everything on show. He leaned over Fushimi caressing pale thighs, kneading the other's flesh. His hands moved but never to where Fushimi wanted them to, whining as Yata stepped back to peel of his clothes. 

"Finger me," Yata said as he climbed atop Fushimi with a bottle of lube in his hand and a furious blush on his face, which had Fushimi wondering how Yata's body functioned with all the blood pooling at each end. Fushimi took the bottle and coated his finger, it was difficult to focus with Yata's erection bouncing in his face. "Kiss it," Yata said watching Fushimi eye his length, Fushimi did as he was told serving Yata front and back. 

Fushimi loved sucking Yata off, the hot taste of Yata's lightly tanned skin and the way it fit so well in his mouth. It was a pleasure to watch Yata fall apart from between the other's legs, his fingers and mouth moved together with practiced ease. 

"That's enough," Yata said after a while, voice horse with a hand on Fushimi's wrist. Yata moved back and down Fushimi's body, coated Fushimi's erection with lube before descending upon it without much of a warning. Fushimi gasped leaning up on his elbows, mouth agape as Yata rode him like a fucking prize pony. "Just sit back and watch," Yata ground out grinding against Fushimi's hips, "but remember have you to ask," Fushimi nodded dumbly, he wouldn't have been able to talk anyway with the wind having been knocked out of him. 

Yata smiled victoriously every time he drew a pleasured noise from that twisted mouth, Fushimi gripped Yata's knees like an anchor watching Yata rise and fall, rapt. He watched Yata's abdominal muscles flex and twitch, his eyes fixated on a single bead of sweat that rolled down Yata's abs. 

"C-an I come?" Fushimi hiccupped brows knitted together.

"No," Yata said simply shaking his head, Fushimi could only whine in response. He leaned back and began to ride Fushimi with a vengeance, moaning with his head thrown back eyes closed to the sky. 

"Please Misaki," Fushimi whined arching his back and clawing at the sheets. Yata shook his head again legs shuddering with pleasure, he brought his hand to his erection and if there was any sure way to send Fushimi over the edge the sight of Yata touching himself was right up there. 

"You have to wait," Yata huffed between breaths and moans, "until I come." 

Somehow Fushimi managed it with curled toes, bent up fingers and a bloody bitten lip. Yata came spewing white over Fushimi's abdomen and that was it, Fushimi was surging upward body racketing with the force of his orgasm crying out.


	12. Push.

Fushimi loved to watch, it was the only thing that would wipe that self satisfied look off of his face. And Yata loved seeing Fushimi affected by anything, the other seemed to be unmovable any other time but the sight of him touching himself made Fushimi crazy. 

Yata sat in front of Fushimi on the bed, leg bent and in his socks alone. His fingers curled loosely around his growing erection, eyes steady on Fushimi splayed against the headboard and lips parted. It was kind of funny how Yata found almost anything embarrassing but this was not one of those things, the light blush on his cheeks was from arousal this time. 

"Kneel up," Fushimi whined with dark eyes, Yata did as asked rising up on his knees. Fushimi moved in front of the other and slipped two fingers between Yata's plump small lips. Yata lapped at them, his eyes on Fushimi's icy blues. Arousal rolled over Fushimi in waves at the fiery look in Yata's eyes, he was drawn to Yata like a moth. 

Fushimi pushed Yata to lay back, leaning up on his elbows fingers still wrapped around his length. Legs bent and spread apart, Yata felt like a work of art appreciated by Fushimi's intense gaze. Fushimi, not a man known for his gentle nature, thrust both fingers inside Yata at once. Yata gasped, thigh muscles trembling as he gripped his cock harder. Fushimi was unrelenting in all the ways he could be, surrounding and filling Yata like it was all the other was allowed to experience. 

It was odd, Yata thought, being the one that things were being done to, being naked and on show, completely vulnerable. And yet he felt like the one with the power, was dizzy with the sensation of it. He had a hold on Fushimi, it was evident in the wet patch on the front of Fushimi's pants. The knowledge made him cum curling in on himself.


	13. Tongue.

"What?!" Yata screeched face flaming easily, Fushimi smirked. 

"It's when-"

"I know what it is Saru, I'm just not doing it," Yata growled scrambling up the bed and slamming himself against the wall. 

"But the thought of it alone makes me shudder," Fushimi said, lips tingling. "Your tongue pressing sinfully inside me," he bent over on all fours and crawled up the bed. Yata closed his eyes and turned his head away, as if Fushimi would cease to exist if no one was looking at him. This turned out to be a bad idea, Yata sat thrust against the wall arching to be as close to it as possible. Fushimi licked his lips at the sight of Yata all bent and twisted exposing his neck in the most delicious way. Yata whimpered as Fushimi's tongue slid along the column of his neck, his fingers slipped easily into the other's hair at the hard wet press against his pulse. "Pretty please, Misaki," Fushimi murmured softly, lips grazing lightly over Yata's earlobe. 

"A-are you clean?" Yata struggled to ask around the lump in his throat. 

"I just had a shower," Fushimi muttered a smirk gracing his face. They locked eyes, desire rolled off of Fushimi like smoke and Yata could only breath it in and be drugged by it. 

"Ok," Yata said blinking slowly. Fushimi smiled lopsidedly sitting up on his knees, slowly he peeled his shirt up and over his head. Yata's head felt foggy, his vision a mess of the other's alabaster contours. Fushimi gracefully slipped out of his sweatpants and boxers, he folded with his cheek pressed against the mattress and his ass in the air.   
To Yata, Fushimi's naked form was like an elegant Greek marble statue, pale and lean. He ached to touch the other and allowed himself the pleasure, Fushimi was not cool to the touch as Yata like to believe sometimes. His favourite part of Fushimi's body was the back of the other's thighs, the sharp press of tendons against the skin where thigh met calf behind the knee made Yata want to slowly splay Fushimi apart. He run his hand up from the back of Fushimi's knee to the curve of the other's backside, he put both hands there and spread Fushimi's cheeks apart. 

Until then Yata hadn't noticed the rapid cadence of Fushimi's breath, he looked down at the other's face. Fushimi's glasses were digging into the flesh of his face, his lips were parted and his eyes were hazy. 

"Mi-sa-ki," Fushimi murmured, Yata's mouth hung open suddenly so hungry for the other, "I ache for you," Yata put his mouth to Fushimi's puckered hole, finding somewhere to hide from that gaze. Fushimi sighed heavily leaning into the touch, Yata surmised that Fushimi didn't taste of much but soap and heat. Boy was it warm and tight in there the thought of it made him flush, the soft huffed moans urged Yata on. Making Fushimi twitch and spasm as he quietly moaned filled Yata with an odd sense of pride and joy, eliciting pleasure inside someone else made him like he had his head stuck in the clouds. 

Yata slipped a hand between Fushimi's legs and wrapped his small fist around the other's erection, Fushimi moaned throatily then, head bending back at an awkward angle. Yata continued to lap and suck at Fushimi's backside, wrist snapping with the determination to make Fushimi cum and soon. And Fushimi obliged him coming with a raspy gasp slumping back into Yata's lap, Yata watched Fushimi catch his breath.


	14. Top and Tail.

Yata could hardly breathe, couldn't think about technique or rhythm with the way that Fushimi was lapping at him. He was laid beside Fushimi fingers and mouth curled loosely around the other's erection as Fushimi sucked him off like a hungry dog, mostly teeth and tongue. The sensation set every one of Yata's nerves on fire, making his eyes roll into the back of his head. 

It was a sticky Sunday afternoon, Yata still wore his tank top and Fushimi's shirt was open splayed either side of him. Yata's beanie had slid half off of his head and his socks were twisted awkwardly, but Yata couldn't find it within himself to care not with the way that Fushimi had started to knead at his backside. He dug his fingers into the flesh of Fushimi's thigh bent crooked above him, Fushimi's head between his legs, dark hair brushed against the sensitive skin that marred the line between his thighs and groin. 

His legs quaked and he felt like crying, he felt overwhelmed with feelings clawing deep in his gut and burning intensely in his chest. Yata was reduced to just breathing around Fushimi's cock, hand moving over it in no real rhythm. Fushimi was beside him again, his equal again. The selfish bastard sucked him dry, he came coughing as he gripped Fushimi's erection hard. Fushimi came shortly after, whining Yata's name in that drawn out way that did irritating things to Yata. 

He wiped his mouth with the back of his hand and lied back on the mattress, he looked at Fushimi smiling goofily at him and thought that he wouldn't have it any other way.


	15. Open Up.

Yata didn't want to open the door that night, not to anyone. 

His clothes laid discarded on the floor, drenched from the snowfall. He sat on the windowsill in nothing but a sweater and boxers staring out into the cityscape, he felt colder then than he ever had then. He rest his forehead upon the glass, his breath obscured his vision. Yata didn't know how long he'd been sitting there but to him it felt like seconds and days all at once, until that quiet trepid rapping upon the door brought him back to present time. 

"Yata," that wicked voice that only spat vile things said oh so softly through the door. Yata tried his hardest to remember any time that Fushimi had called him by that name, hated the way it broke brittle against the wood. 

"Don't call me that," Yata found himself saying, found himself standing between the window and the door. 

"Misaki, let me in," Fushimi said tiredly after some time, Yata stood in front of the door hand poised and ready. "Please," all the fight seemed to rush out of the both of them with the utterance of that word, Yata opened the door and Fushimi brought the other into his arms. 

They both sighed into the embrace, a silent understanding that the other was just as tired of fighting as they were. Yata gripped and twisted Fushimi's collar in his small fists, he pulled the taller down to him pressing their lips together. The kiss was slow and languid both of them hungrily leaning into the other, Fushimi walked them forward into the room   
and kicked the door closed with his foot. 

Yata stepped back, breathing hard and really looked at Fushimi. Fushimi looked tired, sad and soaked. Yata pushed his hands under Fushimi's blazer and slid it off the other's arms, it fell to the floor with a wet thud. Then came the waist coat and after that Yata set his fingers to the buttons of Fushimi's shirt, he almost didn't want to take it off with the way it clung to Fushimi's body. The buttons were no trouble and the fabric splayed easily, but gave some resistance as he peeled it away from Fushimi's pale body. 

Fushimi stepped forward then, grabbing the hem of Yata's sweater and lifted it up and over the smaller boy's head. For once, even with the way Fushimi's eyes roved over him, Yata was not embarrassed. He smiled softly with relief that Fushimi was finally there right in front of him: no sabre, no knives, no blue or red fire and no sick twisted words that enraged him, instead Fushimi was stood there showing him that lopsided smile that Yata hadn't seen for years and even then had only spied in passing. 

Fushimi grabbed the back of Yata's head, fingers twisting and turning in those golden locks. He pressed their foreheads together before slowly undoing Yata with his lips, he lifted Yata off the floor by the back of his thighs and took them to the bedroom. Yata squeaked a little dry laughter as Fushimi dumped him on the bed, the taller followed swiftly yearning to fuse himself to the other. 

"Welcome home," Yata murmured against Fushimi's lips, hands kneading the other's back. Fushimi could have sobbed at the sound of it, knew that it was something that Yata had been dying to say since the day he left. Sorry wouldn't change anything, wouldn't bridge the fissure that Fushimi had torn between them. Being there was one step and holding Yata was another, he'd take it step by step and day by day. He stroked Yata through his boxers, the smaller hiccupped a strangled little noise. Yata brought his fingers to the front of Fushimi's pants and unbuttoned them, he slipped his hand inside and took grip of the other. 

They stayed like that for a time, kissing soft and slow with their hands on each other. Fushimi couldn't take it anymore and tore himself from Yata's grasp, slipping out of his remaining clothes and helping Yata to do the same. They sat on either end of the bed staring at the other as though it were a miracle that they were there, Yata felt dizzy and silly as though he was about to burst with the white hot happiness burning inside him. Fushimi felt as though he were melting, waning in the blazing heat that was Yata's starry eyed gaze. 

Then the atmosphere snapped and they were on each other again, starved for each other. Jaw aching and mouth bruising kisses, gently gripping the other's throat and letting their throat be gripped in a sign of desire and surrender. Yata suddenly bolted up, hand fumbling with the bedside table and finally drawing out a small bottle of lube from the draw. He took Fushimi's hand in his own, slathered the other's fingers with the lube and guided the hand between his legs. 

Fushimi sat with Yata in his lap, tentatively pressing his fingers inside the redhead. The boy that brought colour and heat to his life shuddered in his embrace, breathed hot air onto his neck. Yata slowly relaxed, unfolding like a flower under Fushimi's measured ministrations. He lay Yata flat on his back, covered his length with the lube and positioned himself at the other's entrance, Yata stopped him curling his fingers into Fushimi's shoulders with a pensive look on his face. 

"What is it?" Fushimi asked, genuine concern sounding strange in his voice even to his own ears. 

"D-don't you dare leave me again Saru," Yata said, face scrunching up as though he was about to cry, "prom, promise me," he said digging his nails into the flesh of Fushimi's shoulders and staring up with a fiery resolve. 

"Of course," Fushimi said easily, the words coming out of him like a breeze. He gently stroked Yata's bangs out of his eyes and kissed the other's forehead. "I'm not going anywhere," he put as much conviction in those words as he was capable of. Yata moved his hands down Fushimi's arms and lightly nodded his head, giving his permission. 

It was tight and uncomfortable for the both of them, Yata hissed through gritted teeth and Fushimi bit his lip heaving a sigh when he was all the way in. Fushimi stopped then, hovering over Yata. He shushed and kissed Yata before moving again, he started with short shallow thrusts. Yata gasped against him, arms wrapping around him and holding him close. Fushimi moaned on Yata's lips, hands in the other's hair. 

He brought his hand between them and wrapped his fingers around Yata's leaking erection, Yata arched his back and whimpered with wet eyes. Yata came gasping Fushimi's name, streaming white stickiness between them. Fushimi followed shortly after, moan caught in his throat and fingers knotted in Yata's hair. 

They kissed slow and lazily, hands clinging to the other as though reminding themselves that the other was still there.


	16. The Big Screen.

"Knock it off Saru," Yata hissed jabbing Fushimi in the side, "I'm actually trying to what the movie," he kept his eyes glued to the screen whilst squirming around and away from Fushimi's touch. Fushimi ignored him, as usual, and continued to silently rub Yata's crotch with his slender talented fingers.

"Oh, c'mon Misaki," Fushimi purred in Yata's ear, "there's about five people in here," he nipped at Yata's earlobe causing the other to squeak and jump in his seat. 

"Saru," Yata hissed, but didn't lean away from the touch, it was pretty pointless to try anyways with the way that Fushimi loomed over him with ease. 

"Just sit back and relax," Fushimi said sultry in Yata's ear, fingers deftly unbuttoned Yata's shorts, "let me take care of everything," he said licking a strip up the column of Yata's neck, sliding his hand inside Yata's boxers and taking hold of the other. 

Yata leaned his head back against the chair, hands gripping the arm rest harshly. Fushimi nipped and sucked at the redhead's neck, lapping at the darkening mark he was leaving. Moans caught in Yata's throat as he worried at his bottom lip. 

Fushimi got a wicked idea and with Yata's eyes closed he could give the other a nice surprise. He lent over the seat and took Yata into his mouth, sweet heady scent crawling up his nose. 

"S-saru, seriously there are still attendants," Yata struggled the words out, fingers clawing at Fushimi's hair, "what are you, fourteen?" He barked in a harsh whisper. Fushimi came off of Yata with a more than necessarily loud pop. 

"Hush Misaki, you're making a scene," Fushimi said before returning to the task at hand, teasing Yata as much as humanly possible and then some. Yata scowled down at Fushimi, eyes scrunching shut as Fushimi licked the length of Yata's erection. The smaller trembled and shook with the effort of keeping quiet, which Fushimi was making exceedingly difficult with that talented tongue of his. Yata didn't last long, he couldn't keep it in anymore and released a loud throaty moan. Fushimi had buttoned up and sorted Yata out before the other realised, then a flashlight was shone in their eyes. 

"Yes?" Fushimi asked innocently, Yata could only stare forward mortified.


	17. Floor.

"Whaa!" 

Thud.

Yata hit the floor in an impressively spectacular fall out of his yukata, Fushimi stood looking at a spec on the wall of their room at the inn trying his best not to laugh. 

"Saru, if you're gonna laugh, just laugh," Yata hissed from the floor, Fushimi looked down and suddenly he didn't feel like laughing instead he wanted to groan at the sight before him. Yata was sprawled out half under the wide fabric of the yukata. Fushimi's eyes roved over the exposed skin: a small delicate foot, bony ankle, lean lightly tanned leg all the way up to the curve of the other's backside and a jut of hips, slight sight of abdominal muscles and the press of ribs against skin, shoulder blade and a muscular short arm. 

"Why would I be laughing Misaki?" Fushimi said for something to say as he dropped to his knees beside Yata, he took the other's lithe wrist and spun Yata onto his back, completely exposed. 

"H-hey," Yata barked, trying to cover himself with his one free arm. Fushimi grabbed that too and held both wrists above Yata's head with one of his hands, he straddled Yata's hips with so much grace that it stunned Yata still. Fushimi bent down, his lips moving over Yata's face not quite touching the other and it made Yata shudder. 

"You're body was calling to me," Fushimi murmured against Yata's jaw, "it always says the things that you won't," he smirked and Yata could feel it just under his ear. Fushimi sat up then, running his hands over Yata's skin in a soft caress. Yata stared up at Fushimi, eyes heavy and hazy. 

"I suppose you're right in a way," Yata said eyes caught on the exposed milky flesh of Fushimi's collar bone, he arched his back and tried to roll his hips up against Fushimi's backside. 

"See, you're hard already," Fushimi smiled as he untied his yukata with one deft hand. The heavy fabric splayed away from Fushimi's body with ease, revealing alabaster skin. He threw the fabric aside and moved down Yata's body, somewhat laying on top of the other. Letting go of Yata's wrists, he held himself up on his elbows and ground their hips together. Yata's hips bucked up as he arched his back, fingers digging into Fushimi's forearm keening. 

Fushimi took Yata's chin with his thumb and forefinger, tilting it up for a deep and heavy kiss. He then slid that hand between their bodies and took a hold of their erections, rubbing them together. Sighing into Yata's mouth as the other gasped writhing against the floor. 

"S-saru," Yata whined, fingers tangling in dark hair, "I won't last if you keep," the words got stuck in his throat as a moan tore past them, Fushimi sucked dark desire against Yata's chest leaking erections loosely gripped in his talented grasp. 

"Maybe I don't want you to," Fushimi said lowly, the sound of it making Yata's hips buck up in stuttered hiccups. Fushimi picked up the pace, stealing Yata's lips. "Come for me Misaki," he huffed breath rolling over Yata's face, eyes heavy on the other. Yata came body stuttering and shuddering, closing in on itself. Fushimi had come before Yata could come down from the high, jaw tight with a hiss of Yata's name.


	18. Rise and Shine.

Fushimi felt lips against his own, sloppy lazy kisses were laid upon him. Fingers were in his hair as a hot body slid on top of his own, the inside of thighs pressed against the outside of his hips. He slowly opened his eyes, blinking up at amber ones staring down at him. 

"Morning," Fushimi said groggily, tired but with warm smile slipping across his face. Yata smiled broadly, fingers loosely curling around Fushimi limp cock behind him. 

"Morning Saru," Yata said softly, he descended again lips brushing against Fushimi's as he reached for the small clear bottle on the nightstand. He moved down Fushimi's body, eyes hazy and hair sticking out in every which direction. Coating Fushimi's erection in the lube, Yata giggled lightly eyes caught on Fushimi own messed up hair. 

Yata positioned himself and held Fushimi's erection as he sat upon it, letting the other fill him. The bleak light of the winter morning cascaded across Yata's body, stuttering as he stilled with Fushimi fully inside him. Fushimi sighed barely able to see Yata properly without his glasses, he wrapped his fingers around Yata's slender hips. The other's skin was warm and soft, Fushimi just had sit up and embrace that warmth with his arms. 

Fushimi moaned raspy against Yata's cheek as the other rose and fell in his lap, slow and shallow as they held each other loosely. They came one after the other with flighty stuttered and gasped breaths.


	19. Park.

"Misaki, I'm on duty," Fushimi whined feebly, draped against a tree and eyes rolling back. 

"Shut monkey, don't pretend that you're not enjoying this," Yata barked, smiling with self satisfaction and his hand down the front of Fushimi's pants. 

"Yo-ah," Fushimi gasped as Yata twisted his wrist, "you know me too well Miaski," he smirked down at Yata, nails digging into the bark of the tree. 

"Then let me get on with it," Yata said, face scrunched up and serious as he struggled to unbutton Fushimi's trousers. He gave a triumphant smirk as the last button gave and he easily pulled Fushimi from his underwear, exposing the other to the cool spring air. 

"W-wait, you're making it too obvious," Fushimi stuttered as Yata got on his knees in front of him. 

"Why do you care so much?" Yata said tilting his head, Fushimi's erection almost encompassed his vision. 

"There'll be hell to pay for if I'm caught, not just the embarrassment of being caught," Fushimi said curtly, head spinning as he imagined someone explaining the compromising position he'd been found it to Munakata. 

"Saru," Yata said up at Fushimi, smiling from ear to ear, "that's not my problem," he took in as much of Fushimi as he could in one go and pressed his tongue hard to the other's erection. Fushimi looked like he wanted to say something, but couldn't for fear of making unwanted noise so instead he bit his hand, watching the other's head bob. 

Yata breathed in rhythm with the bob of his head and wrapped his hand around what he didn't feel comfortable with putting in his mouth, drool spilling from his lips. Slender fingers tangled in his ginger hair, shallow thrusts sent Fushimi's cock further down his throat. Fushimi came with a heavy sigh, hot liquid hit the back of Yata's throat and he hardly realised that he'd swallowed. 

"Ha," Yata coughed smiling as he stood, "we're even now."

"Tsk," Fushimi clicked his tongue as he did up his trousers, looking around the park. "Fine, but it won't stay that way for long," he said darkly, threat even evident in his tone.


	20. Bind.

Yata had agree to Fushimi's perversion, it had taken a good while but Fushimi's persistence slowly wore him down and despite what Yata might outwardly portray he's a sucker for cute things. So when Fushimi had put on that pout that made him a little weak at the knees and had asked again in that put upon tone, Yata had caved almost instantly. 

Fushimi wound the red rope around Yata's body, the feel of it against his skin alone was lewd enough to bring forth that trade mark blush. To Yata's surprise, Fushimi was silent as he tied the other up, tongue poking out of the side of his mouth. The way Fushimi gently positioned Yata's body, the soft press of slender fingers against the underside of his thigh, it made his entire body flush. 

His arms were tied behind his back and his thighs were tied to his shins, it was beginner level bondage but it was more than enough to make Yata's breathing shallow. Fushimi stood to remove his clothes, he watched the other with hungry eyes. Yata arched his back, flexing his hands, he ached to be touched. Fushimi settled on the bed in front of Yata, he lightly ran a finger down the middle of the other's chest. 

"S-saru," Yata whined, feeling teased, "get on with it."

"No," Fushimi said lowly, hands ever so slightly caressing Yata's abdomen watching the other's muscles twitch and jump. Yata swallowed at the sound, gasping as hands gripped the flesh of his thighs. Fushimi leaned over Yata, tilting the other's head back with his hand on Yata's chin, he kissed Yata slow and deep bending the other backward. Yata fell onto his back with Fushimi looming over him, mouths still locked together. 

Yata whined at the urge to wrap his legs around Fushimi, the dark haired boy sat back and suddenly Yata felt very exposed by the way the rope had his legs folded. Fushimi ran his finger tips up and down the inside of Yata's thighs, making the smaller squirm and twitch. He slipped a few fingers into his mouth and sucked, eyes dark and heavy on Yata's.   
Yata groaned at the sight, bucking his hips with the need for friction against his erection. 

Wet fingers slowly pushed their way inside Yata, that dull burn bringing his brows together. His breath came out in short shallow gasps as Fushimi thrust his fingers in and out of Yata, he couldn't take the bittersweet touch that came so close but retreated just short of where he wanted it. 

"You're teasing me again," Yata whined sharply.

"I'm sorry, I'll stop," Fushimi said, a slight touch of menace to his tone. He removed his fingers, Yata groaned at the loss, and slathered his erection with saliva before thrusting mercilessly inside Yata. The redhead hissed through gritted teeth, fingers grappling at the sheets behind his back. Fushimi stilled when fully inside Yata, fingers tangling loosely in ginger locks as he bent over the other. 

"Bastard," Yata seethed, legs trembling either side of Fushimi's abdomen. Fushimi set a dizzying pace of short shallow thrusts that the stuttered buck of Yata's hips couldn't keep up with. 

"I like this look best on Misaki," Fushimi murmured hoarsely above Yata, "bound and body arching up into my touch."

Fushimi sat up, fingers digging into Yata's backside as he held the other's hip up. Yata moaned with his head thrown back, body shaking from the way the new position had Fushimi touching different places inside him. Fushimi curled his long fingers around Yata's leaking cock, pumping in time with his erratic thrusts.

"No Saru, not yet," Yata grit out, teeth clattering together in a grimace as he came, body convulsing as he tried to curl in on himself. Fushimi pulled out and flipped Yata onto his knees, going back to chase his own orgasm. One hand on the small of Yata's back and the other gripping the red rope, Yata gasped and keened underneath him body left oversensitive. Fushimi came, hips faltering as he leaned away back arching and stuttering Yata's name.


	21. Wet.

The water rushed between their bodies, Yata couldn't get a good enough grip on Fushimi to pull the other down toward him, he whined in the back of his throat fingers clutching at Fushimi's shoulders. The dark haired boy smirked down at Yata, slender fingers slid easily into the smaller boy's flat golden locks. 

Fushimi bent down, locking lips hungrily, body caging Yata against the cold tiled wall. Yata shuddered at the feel of it against his back, small hands digging into the flesh of Fushimi's arms. Yata had gotten hard at just the sight of Fushimi's long pale legs sliding out dark trousers, already standing under the water. And that had been what had made Fushimi step in the shower, slide the door closed behind him and steal Yata's lips with a bruising kiss; the sight of Yata all forlorn and wet did things to him that he really couldn't control. 

"I always knew you'd be the death of me," he whispered against chapped lips. 

Yata had no time to form a reply before Fushimi hands were under his thighs and lifting him up, but if he had Yata would have remarked at how it had felt like Fushimi had already killed him once. He wrapped his legs around Fushimi's waist, digging the heels of his feet into the other's backside. Arms loosely locked behind Fushimi's head, fingers toying with the hair at the other's nape. 

Hands slid down and pulled Yata's cheeks apart, Fushimi slid inside the other. Swallowing gasps and shuddering whines, lapping them up with his tongue in the other's mouth. His hips moved slow and deep, burning Yata's insides with a sick kind of desire that made his head spin. 

Teeth clattered against each other, moans low and caught in their throats. Song of voices, sink, tile and water rang out in the small room, filling Yata's head with the echoed noise. Fushimi's fingers dug into the flesh of Yata's backside, pulling the other close as his hips hiccupped, coming with his teeth buried where Yata's mark used to be. Yata wrapped his hand around himself as Fushimi filled him up, coming bent double with his forehead pressed against Fushimi's chest.


	22. Desk.

Fushimi suddenly found himself with his cheek pressed flat against his desk and his glasses digging painfully against his face. The kiss Yata had forced upon him after running through the door of his office was hard, almost painful. When Yata pulled back, Fushimi had been dizzy leaning toward the smaller, spellbound. It was then that Yata had bent him over, hand yanking his trousers and boxers down to his thighs. 

"What's gotten into you, Misaki?" Fushimi arched a brow looking back over his shoulder at Yata. The redhead said nothing, instead of an answer Fushimi got saliva covered fingers pressed inside him. "Not that I don't love it when you're spontaneous," Fushimi groaned at the slow wicked burn as Yata spread him apart, "but this is wildly out of character." 

Yata remained silent and it set Fushimi on edge, the silent heavy gaze turned him on. He dug his nails into the wood of the desk, Yata pushed himself inside with some resistance. Fushimi tried his best to stay quiet, teeth digging into his bottom lip as Yata slammed against him. 

Fushimi's head spun as Yata pulled out, turned him around, set him on the desk and climbed between his bent legs. Yata sucked the moans from Fushimi's throat, chewing on the other's dry desire. The beanie had fallen from Yata's head from the way that Fushimi's fingers tangled and yanked at ginger locks. 

"C-come for me," Fushimi whined, begging into Yata's ear, "come for me Misaki."

Wet warmth filled him up and Yata growled deep and heavy, fisting Fushimi's erection erratically. Fushimi's muscles jumped and twitched as he reached his climax, body trembling as it wracked through him. 

"Remember, you're mine monkey," Yata mumbled, teeth grazing along Fushimi's neck.


	23. Wheelbarrow.

Yata's palms were flat against the mattress, his arms were shaking with the effort of keeping himself up. Fushimi's hands were curled around his thighs, holding his lower half in the air. 

"S-saru, I'm not sure about-" 

"Hush," Fushimi sighed slowly pushing himself inside the smaller, Yata groaned low in his throat eyes sliding shut. 

Every slow deep thrust of Fushimi's hips almost sent Yata toppling over, it was difficult to concentrate with the slow burn of pleasure mixing with the dull pain, heck it was hard enough just trying to remember that he should be concentrating. 

"Ung, Saru," Yata whined through his teeth, fingers clawing at the sheets. 

Fushimi had to pick up the pace lest he lose his grip, his hands were already clammy and slipping on Yata's heated skin. He slammed his hips against Yata hard, the room began to fill with the sound of skin upon skin. His arms began to ache and his legs began to shake. Yata bit his lip so hard he tore the skin, mind going hazy from the way that Fushimi was relentlessly crashing against him. 

Yata's arms gave out from under him and his face hit the mattress, body sliding along it as Fushimi climbed on the bed behind him, dropping his legs. Fushimi laced one hand in Yata's ginger locks and wrapped the other around Yata's strained and leaking erection, the smaller was panting and gasping with every thrust. His brow was wet and creased, hands bracing himself upon the wall. 

A stuttered moan of Fushimi's name, meant as a curse but said as a prayer, fell from Yata's lips as he came hot and thick in Fushimi's hand. Fushimi's fingers dug painfully into Yata's hips as he chased his orgasm, Yata still twitching beneath him. He came, teeth sinking into the flesh of Yata's back, growling possessively as he released into the other.

Fushimi collapsed to the side, drawing Yata into his arms as the sweat cooled sickly upon their skin.


	24. Blush.

Yata swallowed thickly, it was now or never and he was quickly losing his nerve, fingers wringing his sweater ragged. 

"Saru," he said with all the confidence he had. 

"Hmm?" Fushimi said not looking up from his PDA, he just sat there laid tiredly upon the couch. The easy ignorance irritated Yata a little, despite how used to it he was. 

"Saru," he said more forcefully, reaching for Fushimi's PDA. Missing as Fushimi moved ever so slightly, causing Yata to stagger forward as he grasped nothing. 

"Whatever it is, I bet it's stupid considering that look on your face," Fushimi arched a brow at Yata's pensive expression, "out with it Misaki," he said in a bored tone. Yata's face flared up with heat, he wasn't quite sure if it was from embarrassment or anger but he was sure that he wanted to throttle the other. He swallowed again with that icy gaze on him and doubled his resolve. 

"I wanna be on top," Yata said all at once, the words jumbled together. 

"Of what?" Fushimi asked amused, turning back to his PDA.

"You, you scumbag," Yata snarled, teeth clashing together. 

"Oh," Fushimi said in a rush of breath, realisation washing over him. Really he should have known something like this was coming, he cleared his throat not so subtly. "A-re you sure you know where to put it?" He smirked hiding the faint blush that was crawling up his throat. He'd be lying to himself if he said he hadn't thought about it, fantasised about it, a lot. 

"O-of course!" Yata yelled, throwing his hands in the air. "Oi!" He squeaked as Fushimi dragged him into the other's lap, PDA discarded upon the couch. 

"Go on then, take me Misaki," Fushimi's smirk spread wide, teeth showing ever so slightly. 

"R-right," Yata nodded going red from ear to ear, he settled on Fushimi's lap, straddling the other. He bent down, fingers sliding upon the fabric over Fushimi's shoulders. He kissed Fushimi, soft and slow, hand coming up to cup the other's face. 

Fushimi's fingers slipped into the hair at the nape of Yata's neck, holding the other close to him. The kiss quickly turned loud and desperate, hands grasping instead of caressing. He bucked his hips up against Yata's backside, grinding, tearing a whine from the other's lips. 

"I'm supposed to be the one-ah," Yata keened as Fushimi continued to roll his hips, "the one doing things," he whined uselessly.   
"Then do them," Fushimi said daringly, eyes challenging the other. 

Yata gulped but met the challenge, he peeled away his tank top, slow enough to see the hunger spark in Fushimi's eyes. He ignored the shake of his hands as he brought them to the buttons of Fushimi's shirt, he undid them slowly, eyes heavy on the skin that he exposed. He dipped his head at the sight of the charred mark on Fushimi's collarbone, tentatively lapping and sucking at the other's skin. Soft pads of fingers slid under Fushimi's shirt, pushing it off the other's shoulders. 

"You really like dragging it out don't you," Fushimi drawled, eyes dark with desire.

"I-I'm just working up to it, jeez," Yata sighed, lips grazing over Fushimi's as he spoke, "you're so impatient," he chewed on Fushimi's lip, drawing a quiet grown from the other. 

"Just get on with it," Fushimi's tone was ruined by the way Yata was mouthing at his Adam's apple, words blurring into a whine. 

"Fine," Yata said with a smirk as he climbed off of Fushimi, standing over the other. He knelt in front of Fushimi, fingers fumbling with the button of the other's jeans. Hands curling over the waist band of Fushimi's jeans and boxers, sliding them off of Fushimi's pale slender legs. He settled between them, the full frontal sight of Fushimi's arousal made Yata flush. He buried his face in the milky skin of Fushimi's thigh, teeth grazing the sensitive skin. 

Fushimi released a stuttering breath, leg muscles twitching. He took the hand that rested on his knee and brought it to his mouth, tentative amber eyes rose to his as he slipped three of Yata's fingers into his mouth. The sucking made Yata's entire body ache, Fushimi stole his soul through his fingertips. Fushimi pulled the fingers from his mouth with a loud pop, sultry smile dancing on his lips. 

"Spread me wide, Misaki," he said playfully, Yata groaned as Fushimi planted his feet on the couch.

Trying his best to remember how Fushimi always made him come undone with those fingers alone, he slowly pushed the first finger inside. Fushimi shuddered at the foreign sensation, hand easily sliding into Yata's hair. Fushimi was hot around Yata's wet finger, he slowly built up a rhythm with the thrusts concentrating on the sound of Fushimi above him. As Fushimi's breath turned sharp and shallow he decided that it was time to add another finger, the hand in his hair pulled his face toward Fushimi's erection. 

The keen brought from the curl of Yata's fingers was what drew Yata's mouth open, tongue sliding over the head of Fushimi's cock. He smiled up at Fushimi, almost shaking his head, the other had always been so greedy. He added the third finger, mouth sliding down and around Fushimi. 

"Ugh, Misaki," Fushimi groaned, eyes locked with Yata's. "Didn't know you were so good at multi-tasking," he fought the growing urge to fuck into Yata's face, he wasn't an animal. He kicked Yata back against the coffee table, foot planted on the other's chest. "You gonna fuck me or what?" Fushimi curled a brow, skin itching with the need for Yata against him, inside him. 

"You're a true romantic ain't ya?" Yata laughed lightly as he undid and slid out of his shorts and boxers, stepping out of them as they pooled at the floor. 

"Just get inside me and I won't call you a virgin anymore," Fushimi groaned, skin electric with the static rolling off of Yata's body. The smaller moved Fushimi's legs onto the couch, so the other was lying flat upon it. He crawled between Fushimi's bent legs, drawing them over his shoulder. He was bent over Fushimi, Yata naked, red and embarrassed, Fushimi equally as naked, alabaster and smooth. Yata slathered saliva over his erection, nerves screaming at him as he positioned himself at Fushimi's entrance. 

He pushed in slowly, the pair of them gasping harshly as they were joined together. Fushimi grit his teeth, adjusting to the way his body was adjusting to accommodate Yata. Yata brought his mouth down to Fushimi's, bending the other double.

"You planning on splitting me in half?" Fushimi whined breaking away from Yata's mouth to breathe, brows knitted together. 

"Shut up," Yata ground out, thrusting shallowly, hands braced against the back of Fushimi's thighs. Fushimi groaned, the burn was sweet and the pleasure was sweet, it was making his teeth rot. 

"Uh, Misaki," he dug his fingers into Yata's cheeks. "C'mon you know what I want," mouth over Yata's jaw. 

That had Yata's hips surging forward, hands pushing Fushimi's legs further apart. The jut of his hips slapping against the flesh of Fushimi's backside, switching the angle rising up on his knees. And the way Fushimi threw his head back, hands grappling uselessly in the air was enough to send him sky high. 

"Fucking bullseye," Yata barked victoriously, hips still snapping back and forth with a vengeance. He smoothed his hand along Fushimi's front, down to his cock and wraps his fingers around it. The flames of his desire licked at the edge of his control, orgasm chasing him as he tried to draw out more of those moans, more of those pleasure wracked faces from Fushimi. 

Fushimi shuddered under him, legs trembling and mouth twitching with Yata's name. Come slipping over and in between his fingers, muscles spasm and jump under his hand as he continued to thrust into Fushimi's over sensitive body. He came with his mouth latched onto Fushimi's thigh, orgasm bending him double. 

"You have to do that more often, we have to," Fushimi stuttered, body still on the come down.

"Yeah," Yata said on exhale, forehead pressed against Fushimi's chest breathing heavily.


	25. Let's Play.

"Here I go," Fushimi said, tying the blindfold around Yata's face. Yata sat upon Fushimi's desk chair in the other's office, legs folded underneath him. Fushimi stepped back and watched that familiar blush quickly crawl its way up Yata's neck, stretching to the tips of his ears. 

Fushimi leaned down and brought his face less than an inch from Yata's, his breath tickled Yata and the smaller leaned slightly toward Fushimi. It was a feather light touch, lips gentle and just quite not enough for either of them. He pressed forward again, this time quicker and with more force. Yata released a small squeak between their mouths, falling into the touch. The third kiss was rougher, more desperate. Their lips pressed together almost painfully, hands reaching for each other's skin. Their breathing grew louder, hands on Fushimi's face tried to draw him closer as he pulled away. 

"Glad to know that you're eager, Misaki," Fushimi smiled to himself as he sat back on his heels. 

"Saru, don't tease me you bastard," Yata groaned, finger nails scraping along the armrests of the desk chair. 

"Yes your highness," Fushimi smirked, eyes gleaming. He ran his hands down Yata thighs to the top of his knees, Fushimi eased his legs up so that Yata's knees were drawn to his chest. Fushimi took the bottle of lube from the desk and coated his fingers with it, he rubbed the inside of Yata's thigh with his other hand. His tongue poked out the side of his mouth as he stroked around Yata's entrance, teasing mercilessly. 

"Saru," Yata bit out, teeth bared and fists clenched. And Fushimi chose that time to push his finger inside, causing Yata to gasp, hands grappling at the armrests. Fushimi opened him up slowly, like the blossoming of a flower. Short swallow breaths, gasps and moans that grew louder and louder. He withdrew his fingers and Yata released a low whine, legs twitching. Fushimi sat back and watched for a moment: the rise and fall of Yata's chest, the twitching pulse of the other's puckered entrance, those swollen bruised parted lips, the wet pink head of Yata's leaking erection, mussed ginger locks that stuck to a damp brow, the hot smooth column of Yata's neck, that one droplet of sweat that trailed down Yata's mark mirrored on Fushimi's own skin, the lean muscles that jumped in Yata's thighs. 

Despite how much Fushimi teased Yata about behaving like a virgin, being a completely nonsexual being, Fushimi had always thought of Yata as a temptation, every movement designed just to undo Fushimi's resolve. 

The vibrator stood proud beside Fushimi on the floor, he picked it up and turned it on. It whirred around in his grasp, it was mighty louder than Yata had thought it would be. The smaller drew his bottom lip into his mouth and began to gnaw on it, toes curling around the edge of the chair. Fushimi turned it off and coated it in the lube, he looked up at Yata's upturned brow and chewed lip.

"Yo-"

"Just get on with it," Yata ground out, Fushimi smiled. It was simultaneously Yata's best and worst trait, from one perspective it was his steely resolve to see something through all the way and form the other it was his pigheaded stubbornness. It was quite endearing. 

"If you say so Misaki," Fushimi chimed, he positioned the vibrator at Yata's entrance and slowly pushed it inside. Yata continued to worry at his bottom lip, breath coming out from flared nostrils harsh, short and shallow. Fushimi worked the vibrator in and out of the other until Yata was releasing quiet moan after moan. Then he switched it on. 

Yata keened highly, teeth showing and head leaned back. Fushimi left Yata to squirm, writhe and moan. Time drew out immeasurably as Yata's body buzzed, he dug his nails into his knees, muscles jumping and twitching. Then a hand was on his knee, pushing it down, he moved his legs into a sitting position. 

"S-saru," Yata moaned mouth gaping, the new position caused the vibrator move deeper inside him. 

Legs straddled Yata's, naked legs, Yata ran his hands up Fushimi's side, the other was completely naked. He leaned up and brought his mouth to Fushimi's stomach, leaving a trail of wet kisses there. A wet hand wrapped around his erection, slathering it with the lubrication, Yata shuddered at its cool touch. Fushimi slowly descended upon him, Yata could hardly take it, the simultaneous sensations were too much for him. His fingers gripped Fushimi's hips painful, almost certain to leave marks, as the other began to rise and fall upon him.

"Misaki," Fushimi groaned hoarsely into Yata's hair, ass smacking against Yata's legs, his own legs trembling. He was so turned on to begin with, the sight of the boy underneath him easily undoing him. He took Yata's hand and brought it to his own strained erection, begging for release with his body. Fushimi could see that Yata was so close, the smaller boy gasping, moaning and babbling. Yata came hard and loud, gripping Fushimi painfully hard. Fushimi wrapped his hand around Yata's, chasing his orgasm, a trembling chant of the other's name on his lips. He came between them, coating their hands. 

After they washed, they sat tangled on the couch watching some terrible sitcom. 

"I've gotta hand it to you Saru," Yata mumbled, face pressed against Fushimi's chest, "you do have some good ideas, sometimes."


	26. Yawn.

Yata lazily held the controller in his hands with one of Fushimi's down his pants, pumping away. He dropped the controller to the floor, he wasn't really that interested in the game he'd been playing, and leaned his head back against the couch. Fushimi's fingers curled around in the waistband of his shorts and boxers, he lifted his hips up as Fushimi pulled the clothes down and off of him. 

It felt routine, the way Fushimi lifted him up and bent him over the armrest, driving saliva covered fingers inside him. It felt impersonal, the way he couldn't see the other's face, the way that Fushimi didn't say his name even once. It felt like the carnal chase, a means to an end, as Fushimi's hips snapped against his backside. 

As he wrapped his hand around himself, come thickly sliding out of him, his last thought before he came was of the canyon that had seemed to suddenly stretch out between. He mused that apathy and indifference sneak up on you, falling out of love is slow at first, a genuine struggle, then it's sudden and the fight is gone.


	27. Don't Bite Me.

Yata slammed Fushimi against the wall, mouths pressed together with the aching need to consume each other. He bit down on the other's lip, drawing blood, Fushimi didn't pull back it just urged him on. Yata hurriedly pushed away Fushimi's clothes, tearing apart the shirt that stood between him and that glorious marble skin. 

Fushimi was a statue, a work of art painstakingly hand crafted, a masterpiece that Yata wanted to take a sledgehammer to. 

He stepped back slightly, mouth only coming away from the other's long enough to pull his t-shirt over his head. Hands then busy on his belt and flies. Once his jeans and underwear were low on his thighs, his nails were running down Fushimi's back making the other hiss into their lustful kiss. He didn't bother undoing Fushimi's pants, he just yanked them done from the back, pulling them far enough to reveal the other's pale backside. 

"Misaki," Fushimi moaned into Yata's mouth and that was enough for him to find himself free of his pants and sitting on the kitchen counter with his legs bent over Yata's shoulders.   
Yata lacthed his mouth onto Fushimi's neck, sure to leave a hickey, as his hand search the cupboard beside Fushimi's head. He pulled out the olive oil and slathered it between Fushimi's legs, fingers only delving inside shallowly. Fushimi whined and writhed, fingers tangled in Yata's shaggy ginger hair, pulling at it painfully. 

With his finger nails digging into Fushimi's backside, pulling the other's cheeks apart as he rammed inside. Fushimi was barely on the counter, mostly braced against it as Yata's hips slammed against him. Yata pushed Fushimi's legs as wide apart as he could, grunting and panting, with his teeth grazing the other's chest. 

"M-misaki, I, I-I," Fushimi was being uncharacteristically inarticulate. 

Yata was abusing Fushimi's prostate, the latter's moans growing in volume and intensity. He wrapped his hand around Fushimi's cock and squeezed, Fushimi screwed his face up hissing. 

"Don't you dare come before me you bastard," Yata ground out, hips snapping erratically. He didn't last much longer, body shuddering against Fushimi's, face buried in the crock of the other's neck. He let go of Fushimi's leaking and painfully strained erection, the other's ejaculation hit his stomach and made a hot sticky mess of their already sweat covered bodies.


	28. Amateur Dramatics.

"This isn't what I had in mind when you said role playing," Yata said, the muscles in his arms twitching with the effort of carrying Fushimi over the threshold of the door. 

"Don't break character or you don't get to be on top," Fushimi sing-songed, running a finger along the underside of Yata's chin. 

"Right, but one more thing," Yata said as he closed the apartment door with his backside, Fushimi hummed with acknowledgement. "Where did you get the suits?" 

"Ah, that's a secret," Fushimi smiled, "newlyweds," he reminded, fingers already on the bowtie at Yata's collar. 

"Of course darling," Yata smiled, really the thought that Fushimi had even thought of the prospect of them getting married elated him. It all sort of filled his heart up until it was fit   
to burst with that kind of happiness that made you giddy, he was smiling down goofily at the other when he kicked open the bedroom door. 

He gently placed Fushimi upon the bed and crawled atop the other, hands moving slow on the pristine clothes. The blazer fell from Fushimi's shoulders easily, pooling around his wrists. The bowtie gave, coming undone with a delicate pull from Yata's fingers. The waistcoat dropped to the mattress, Yata had never really seen the point in them. Simple round white buttons pushed aside with ease and Yata was finally able to see some of that skin, that skin like cream, Yata licked his lips at the sight of it. 

Then Fushimi's hands were on him, fabric falling from his torso as though that were its purpose. Yata hardly noticed he was being undressed with the way Fushimi's eyes were on him, intense with the kind of warmth that Yata couldn't help but melt to. 

"Happiest day of my life," Yata murmured, trying his best to stay in character, he imagined that it really would be. Fushimi cracked a genuine smile at Yata's words, their mouths came together in an unhurried and passionate kiss. Then hands met naked skin and the kiss turned into a clash of tongue and teeth, fingers grasping for more. 

Belts weighed down their trousers and they fell to the floor with a thud, underwear following with more resistance. Yata climbed between Fushimi's bent legs, teeth grazing against the inside of the other's thigh. 

For once, Yata really took his time in opening Fushimi up, he committed every shudder, whine, keen, moan, shiver, jolt, hiss, groan and tremble of the other's body to memory. He imagined that he'd do something like that on their wedding night, imagined that it would be a very intimate affair and was taken off guard that Fushimi appeared to have the same idea. There was no teasing here, no harsh words or snide remarks that belied their true feelings, then again there wasn't any grand confessions of love but that had never been them. 

Fushimi felt completely exposed when Yata finally entered him, in a bent up sort of missionary position, Yata was too close. Then again Yata was glorious, like the sun breaking through the leaves. The red head stilled, fully sheathed inside Fushimi, their faces were inches apart. Yata bent forward and kissed him, long drawn out thrusts undoing him from the inside out. 

They broke the kiss as Yata began to pick up the pace, hips snapping against the back of Fushimi's thighs. Yata braced a hand on the wall as he dove relentlessly in and out of Fushimi, his other hand held Fushimi's delicate face.

Moans filled the air, the orchestra of their bodies rang out through the empty apartment. Yata took Fushimi's erection in his hand and pressed their foreheads together as he tried his best to simultaneously bring them to climax, it didn't quite work out as Yata had planned though. He waited for the signs of Fushimi's orgasm before chasing his own with abandon, coming with Fushimi's skin against his mouth. 

-

"It's a shame really," Yata mused breathing heavily as he traced his fingers over Fushimi's chest.

"What is?" Fushimi sighed. 

"That we can't get married here," Yata said burying his face in Fushimi's heated skin. Fushimi stared down at the other, chewing the thought over. 

"You know, we could just go to another country and get married," he said, the air in the room was suddenly stifling, "it wouldn't count as a marriage here, but at least-"

"You really mean that?" Yata sat up, eyes alight in that way that made Fushimi feel like he was wilting. 

"Yeah," Fushimi nodded dumbly. Yata squeaked and then squeezed Fushimi until the other felt boneless, when Yata let go Fushimi flopped back against the mattress. 

"Anyway, Fushimi Saruhiko," Yata said sitting beside the other in all his naked, sweaty and ejaculate covered glory, "that was a terrible proposal." Fushimi groaned, sinking against the pillows.


	29. Yum.

They were sat in front of the fridge, the light of it shining on their faces like in those cheesy romantic movies but it hadn't started out like that. Yata had found Fushimi sneaking snacks in the middle of the night, they had come crashing down in front of the open fridge and the strawberries and cream that Yata had been saving fell onto Fushimi's bare chest, container skidding across the floor. 

"Eat it up," Fushimi had seethed, eyes dark and daring as he stared Yata down. 

"What?! Why?!" Yata squawked, back leant against the door.

"Because it's your fault that it's on me and you hate wasting food," Fushimi tilted his head, swiped some of the cream off his chest with his finger and held it out for the other. 

Yata stared at the offending finger, after a moment he leaned forward taking it into his mouth. He sucked upon it, pulling the finger further inside. Fushimi breathed heavily out of his nose, nostrils flared. Yata watched the way Fushimi's eyes hooded and breath came in short swallow huffs and it boosted his red faced confidence, he swallowed thickly and climbed into the other's lap. 

Cream three or four shades lighter than Fushimi's complexion lay scattered on his chest and trailed down over his ribs, pooling on his bent stomach. Yata picked up one of the strawberries that had rolled away, chewed it as he ran his mouth down and around Fushimi's chest. Tongue swirling around the fruit and along Fushimi's cool skin, goose bumps rode the other's exposed flesh. Yata consumed the discarded strawberries and lapped up the remaining cream, it wasn't enough to quench his growing hunger. 

He pushed Fushimi flat onto his back and closed the fridge before climbing atop the other, he curled his fingers around waistband of Fushimi's boxers. 

"I'm still hungry Saru," Yata whined as he pulled the fabric down, Fushimi helping with a subtle lift of his hips. 

Boxers tangled around his knees as he leaned up on his elbows and panted, Fushimi lazily knotted his fingers in Yata's hair. Yata hallowed his cheeks around Fushimi's twitching erection, teeth scraping along the pulsing shaft. Fushimi watched as Yata slowly pulled up and off of him, tongue left behind to trail up his member and lick the precum leaking from his dark head. 

Then Yata continued with a fervour, mouth descending on the other. Sticky fingers on Fushimi's trembling thighs, he wrapped his hand around what he couldn't fit in his mouth.   
Fushimi came with a stuttered gasp of Yata's name, orgasm shooting at the back of the other's throat. Yata licked his lips as he sat back, wiping his mouth with the back of his hand. 

"Thanks for the food," Yata smiled.


	30. Underneath.

Fingers laced in his hair, knotting in it as they pulled him closer, trying to meld their bodies together. Yata's chest rested over Fushimi's own, hearts beating, pounding in a way that had Yata wondering if his heart wanted to break out from the cage of his ribs, jump down Fushimi's throat and into the other's chest. 

"Saru," Yata whined face aflame with the heat of desire and having Fushimi so tantalizingly close, skin on skin. "I need you inside me Saru," he murmured against Fushimi's pulse.   
Fushimi clicked his tongue, inhaling with his nose buried in Yata's hair. 

"But it'd be such a shame for you to let one of my rare indulgent moods pass," Fushimi said huskily lips against the shell of Yata's ear. 

"What?!" Yata barked sitting up in Fushimi's lap, lips over pronouncing and brows turning up in confusion. Fushimi sat up hands cupping Yata's flushed cheeks and moved his mouth over the other's. 

"I want you inside me," he said holding the other's gaze, Yata's lip twitched and trembled as the smaller man thought over the other's proposition. 

"B-but I want, I-I wanted," Yata stammered fingers twisting in the sheets as Fushimi's fingertips dug into his cheeks. 

"But this is offer is only up for a limited time," Fushimi pouted as a smirk danced on the corner of his lips. 

"Can't I save it up for another time?" Yata said genuinely pouting as he tried to negotiate with Fushimi. 

"Why don't you just try your luck," Fushimi let the smirk smooth over his sultry mouth. 

Yata hated the ringing condescending sound of the other's tone, an idea came to mind that would wipe the shit-eating grin off of Fushimi's face. He took Fushimi's erection in his hand and descended upon it before the other could even react, it burned without the preparation but since they'd already fooled around that morning it wasn't as bad as it could have been. Yata hissed as he slid down, legs trembling as he came to a stop. 

There were noises stuck in Fushimi's throat, words and statements half formed stuttered out of his mouth. Blunt nails dug into Yata's hips, sure to leave bruises in their wake. Yata smiled with triumph, taking the glasses from Fushimi's face and placing them upon the bedside table. 

"Cat got ya tongue, huh Saru?" Yata snickered, letting his body adjust to the expanse of Fushimi inside him. 

Fushimi gave an irritated hiss before flipping them over, folding Yata in half. The new position allowed him to slide deeper inside the other, his breath hitched at the almost painful friction. 

Tongue and teeth found skin, tacky with sweat, Yata's mouth found Fushimi's wrist and bit down upon it, tongue pressed hard against the other's pulse. Fushimi's hips snapped against Yata's backside, the force of it rocked through them, vibrating through their bones. 

Yata moaned, the sound tore from his throat as Fushimi abused his sweet spot, fingers tugging at Fushimi mused hair. Drool spilling from the side of his mouth as he let it hang open, legs drawn up to his chest and bent over behind Fushimi's back. Fushimi's arms trembled with the effort of holding himself up and thrusting into Yata, mouth on the other's throat. He curled his fingers around Yata's leaking erection, teeth grazing over the other's Adam's apple. Yata blabbered, holding Fushimi's hair in a vice like grip, vision blurring as he came. Fushimi followed shortly after, stammering Yata's given name against the other's collarbone.

Fushimi sat back staring down at Yata, as he came down from his high Yata's modesty slowly returned to him. He grabbed the pillow from above his head and smothered himself with it. The hoarse dry noise of Fushimi's laughter rang in his ears, he just groaned pressing the pillow harder against his face.


End file.
